


Say It Ain't So

by Soul4Sale



Series: You Were The Young Man In The Costume That Was Hard To Ignore [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: Edgar POV, Fluff, Gay, M/M, Pet POV, Slash, Yaoi, unbeta’d
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 13:01:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8057401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soul4Sale/pseuds/Soul4Sale
Summary: When Firkle brought Mike to meet his pet, neither were very impressed by his reaction.





	Say It Ain't So

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so. To get this started, Edgar Allen is Firkle’s pet Coconut Octopus. Firkle can communicate with him thanks to some residual gift from Chthulu, and that is my headcanon and that is what it’s going to stay. 8D;;; Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this~

Firkle told me that he was bringing me a surprise today, but he didn’t sound very excited about it. I’ve been listening from beneath the bubbling water of my tank, and I’m fairly sure he’s bringing over his new boyfriend. What I don’t understand is why he would be so upset about the prospect; He _has_ said that this new lover was a bit of a pussy, but that shouldn’t matter.

It’s when he finally brings in the thing he expects me to respect that everything falls into place. Even _I_ can smell the bitch on this one. 

“Mike, don’t freak out.” I hear him saying, but the little squeak from the older man is enough to tell us both he’s losing his mind and he hasn’t even seen me in my full glory, yet. “Edgar’s not some monster, he’s really…” He had better not call me sweet. “Sweet.” There he goes.

 _I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t lie on my behalf._ I tell him, and he turns over his shoulder to look at me, finally stepping over to my tank and dipping his hand inside. I crawl forward, finally wrapping up around it. As he pulls me out, I wish I could cackle at the way this Mike goes pale and timid all at once.

“This is Edgar. Edgar, this is Mike.” Firkle narrows his eyes at me, then, “Behave.” I can tell by the tone in his voice that he’s serious, that the thinly veiled threat is real, but I can’t find it in myself to care. He cradles me to his chest, wet as I am, and I wrap a tentacle around his neck for a moment, before reaching it towards the clammy looking lamer pressed to the wall by the bedroom door. 

“H-H-Hi, Edgar--” Mike looks like he’s about to make a run for it, eyes on me and my human slave (Oh, it just burns him up when I call him that), and I can’t help but wish I could act out without getting shoved back underwater and closed off by the curtain Firkle put around my tank. He knows I hate that. 

“Relax, Mike, he’s not going to hurt you.” 

_You don’t know that._

“Shut up, Edgar.” Now, he’s throwing me another look and I play innocent, all while Mike’s brown eyes watch us in utter horror.

“Di-did you just talk to him?” The man-baby’s voice is six pitches too high and I can just feel how powerful Firkle’s eyeroll is. 

“Yeah, dude, I can talk to him. He’s being a _total_ poser.” Another glare, and I pointedly ignore it. 

_At least I’m not dating the king of the posers._

“Shut _up_. Ugh. He’s such a brat today.” I drag a tentacle against the piercing above his upper lip and he sighs. I know the best ways to shut him up.

“W-well, maybe we should, uh… Should…” Mike looks torn as he looks from me and my tank to Firkle’s bed, and I’m pretty sure his train of thought is obvious to everyone in the room. Not liking me is risking him being able to bone my pretty man slave in his own house. I can’t help the sinister draw of my tentacles as I watch him flounder in agony. “Y-you could put him back in his tank and uh…”

_He wants to bone you._

“At least he’d be more polite about it.” 

“Wh-what’s he saying?” Because it seems that in a place like South Park, Firkle being able to communicate with me seems like a natural progression of events. 

“That you want to bone me and that he wants to be grounded.” Firkle smirks at him and I want to smack him. Instead, I put a tentacle over his lips and draw one out to beckon Mike closer. He gulps, but slowly comes forward, and I know I was right all along. 

“Well, I… I would be more polite about it.” I can see his eyes trailing over my tentacles as I dip one down into the neck of Firkle’s shirt, and I want to say anything to make him sound more pathetic, but I’m not given the chance, “Perhaps we should, uh. Put Edgar back in his tank and… And I could… We could maybe go downstairs and watch TV?”

_He means--_

“I know what he means, Edgar.” I can’t believe he cut me off. I make sure he knows it as he puts me back in the water; Taking my sweet time, I slowly climb back into the water and curl up in my coconut shells. He’s going to have to deal with me sooner or later. I watch the curtains being drawn and hear them making their way out the door. Honestly, I hope that’s the last I hear from there, for now.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m pretty happy with this, actually. ouo Writing an octopus is oddly fun. I might have to write more things from Edgar’s POV. I hope you guys enjoyed!


End file.
